


Memoraid

by MykEsprit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, HEA, Memory Loss, Some coarse language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 19:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MykEsprit/pseuds/MykEsprit
Summary: He had no idea who he was. All he knew was he needed to see Hermione Granger.





	Memoraid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squarepeg72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/gifts).



> Written for School's Out For Summer event, hosted by Draco's Den. Thanks to the mods for hosting!
> 
> I picked this fun prompt:  
> Person A is stressing over University finals for their degree. Person B is trying to be supportive but is feeling just as buried and stressed as person A. Everything is going fine, until it isn't. Missing books, quills and spell mishaps may can end them or make them stronger
> 
> A gift fic for SquarePeg72! I hope you like it!

There was a bottle in his hand, a stick in his pocket, and thoughts of Hermione Granger running circles in his head. These were the things he knew.

Perhaps the more important things to note were what he _didn’t_ know: where he was, what he was doing there, and _—_ most alarmingly _—_ what the bloody fuck he called himself.

The most pressing matter first. He checked the insides of his jacket and all the pockets of his trousers and the contents of the leather satchel on the bench beside him. Surely there was something to indicate his identity.

Yet, all he found tucked in the lining of his outerwear was a long, polished stick, and within his _—_ he assumed it was his since there was no one else around _—_ satchel were bound pages filled with dark squiggly lines. He had a feeling those markings meant something, but no matter the angle he squinted at them, he couldn’t decipher a thing.

He glanced around. The  _ where _ , he could answer, although with no particulars. He was in a quiet courtyard lined with trees leading up to a set of stone steps. 

At the top of those steps was a building, as tall as it was sprawling, like a castle in some long-forgotten fairytale. It answered the question of  _ what  _ he was doing there _—_ for as imposing as the stone facade was, it brought him a sense of purpose. Whoever he was and wherever he had come from _—_ those answers were not as crucial as the need to get inside that building. He had no idea what it housed, but he knew, without a doubt, that it was Hermione Granger’s favorite place in the world, and that he needed to see her more than he needed his next breath.

He tucked the glass bottle into his satchel and sprinted up the steps two at a time. The great oak doors groaned open, and he stepped inside a cavernous hall. He was immediately overcome with mingled scents of leather and parchment and dust. 

Just before the stacks of leather-bound pages, a woman sat behind a desk. Her glasses had slid down to the bulbous tip of her nose; this did not prevent her from squinting at him as he approached. “Yes?” she asked nasally.

Still with no clue as to what this place was, yet knowing what he needed, he took a chance and cleared his throat. “Hermione Granger, please.”

For a moment, she stared at him unblinkingly. Then, she pointed a thick finger to the right. “She hasn’t moved since you left her.”

His feet were already going in the direction she had indicated, and he looked back to give the woman a nod of thanks before hurrying between the stacks. His mind might not have known anything, but his limbs certainly did, and he let himself be led to an alcove tucked between two suits of armor. It showcased a stained glass window, and light poured through the colorful scene, dancing on the brown-gold curls of a woman sitting underneath it.

“Hermione,” he whispered.

She glanced up from a page filled with squiggles, her pretty eyes wide with surprise. “You’re back.”

He nodded and took a step towards her, not knowing what else to say. Her name had been playing in a loop in his head, and he wanted to sing it while dancing between the stacks or stand on the table and shout it loud enough for the woman at the entrance to hear. 

While he knew next to nothing, he also realized either action would be daft, and so, instead, he took another careful step forward and said, “Of course, I am.”

Her expression melted into a relieved smile. The legs of her chair squeaked as she pushed away from the table. “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier.” She made her way around and approached him. “It was unfair of me to pick a fight with you about something so trivial when we’re both under immense pressure.”

“Hm?” She was close enough now that he could count the freckles on her nose. The light scent of her coconut shampoo dazed him. He shook himself mentally and replayed her words. “Immense pressure?”

An eyebrow quirked upward. “From exams.”

“Exams.” He tested the word, and it felt uncomfortable on his tongue.

Hermione placed a small hand lightly against his cheek. “Are you alright, Theo?”

“Ah.” The word brought him comfort, like slipping on his favorite jumper. “Theo.”

Worry flashed over her face, steely and determined. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Wanting to suppress the panic brewing behind her eyes, he told her everything he knew, which was everything encompassed only in the last quarter hour.

“The bottle,” she said. “What was in it?”

He shrugged and pulled out the glass container, handing it to her.

Her expression shifted from anxious to confused. “‘Memoraid’?” she read from the label. Turning it around, her eyes glanced over the lines of squiggles. “‘Distracted? This drink is designed to keep you focused on the most important thing in your life. Comes in a variety of flavors, including Blue, Red, and Extreme.’” Her eyebrows knit together, and her cheeks tinged maroon as she saw the manufacturer’s logo. “Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Oh...bollocks!”

 

* * *

 

The potion tasted awful, but it was the guilt and embarrassment that curdled his stomach.

“Feeling better?” Hermione asked. Her lips were quirked in a wry half-smile, and she kept a bit of distance as she sat next to him on the couch.

“Define ‘better’.” He rested his forehead against the heels of his hands. He was flooded with memories, and it gave him an instant headache. “I’m so sorry. About all of this.”

“It’s all right.”

He couldn’t bear to look at her _—_ he didn’t deserve it _—_ so it might have been mere wishful thinking that he noticed genuine understanding in her tone. He shook his head.

“I’ve gone to great lengths to do well on exams. And graduate school exams are much harder than the ones we had at Hogwarts,” she said. “I’m not one to judge.”

He peered at her from the corner of his eye. Her hand laid in the space between them; he wanted to reach for it, thread his fingers through hers, but shame kept him from doing so. “Still, I shouldn’t have drunk it.”

“Like I said earlier.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I shouldn’t have brought up making plans for graduation until after exams. It wasn’t as important as studying.”

He chuckled softly. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it?” He took a deep breath, and, after finding some courage, tentatively took her hand in his. “Studying _—_ it’s not. It’s not nearly as important to me as you are.” He raised her hand and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “I’m sorry it took a potion to get me to remember that."

A gentle smile settled on her lips. She squeezed his fingers. “Come on. We can talk more about this tomorrow after exams. There’s still enough time tonight to get through revisions.”

Hermione made to get up, but he tugged her back lightly. She fell to his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Five minutes more, please.” He closed his eyes and leaned his face into her mass of curls. “I’d like to spend a bit more time with you. The rest of it can wait.”

“All right,” Hermione said, laying her head on his shoulder. There was a smile in her tone. “Five minutes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/Kudos are appreciated!


End file.
